


To Let Go And To Give In

by elivigar



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Swearing, That's literally the only reason this is rated T - a swear word or two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elivigar/pseuds/elivigar
Summary: “You’re gross,” he says as he winds his arms around Ashton’s tightly wound shoulders. “I could smell you from the kitchen.”“And yet here you are, all up in my space,” Ashton grunts as he shifts his shoulders in a half-hearted attempt at making Michael step back.Ashton doesn't know how to take care of himself. Maybe Michael doesn't know how to take care of Ashton either, but he tries. He always tries.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	To Let Go And To Give In

**Author's Note:**

> Idk man, I asked for a prompt and once again, [Bella](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com) provided, and this short little thingy was the result? Come talk to me on [Tumblr](https://ashtcnirwin.tumblr.com) if you wanna♥

Michael doesn’t bother knocking on Ashton’s door. He’s dealt with the situation he knows is at hand so many times in the past that he’s well aware that he’s not gonna get an answer. So, instead of knocking, he opts to barge right in, flinging the door open with a somewhat dramatic display of power.

“You’re gross,” he says as he winds his arms around Ashton’s tightly wound shoulders. “I could smell you from the kitchen.”

“And yet here you are, all up in my space,” Ashton grunts, shifting his shoulders in a half-hearted attempt at making Michael step back. His eyes are glued to a comically thick book placed on the desk in front of him, and he appears almost manic in his desperate attempt to find motivation to focus.

“You should thank me,” Michael says. He noses at the greasy curls gathered at the side of Ashton’s head. “You’re so fucking gross, like… you smell, you haven’t changed your clothes in two days, you haven’t showered in God knows how many days, and yet here I am, willing to subject myself to your nastiness.”

“Thanks, you’re a true friend,” Ashton says flatly, eyes still focused on the book. “Can you go? I have a lot of reading to do, and you being clingy isn’t helping my concentration.”

Frowning, Michael takes a step to the side, regarding Ashton’s profile. “When did you last eat something that wasn’t stale cookies or instant noodles?”

“Dunno, last week maybe,” Ashton mutters. “Does it matter?”

Michael sighs as he takes a step back. “You can’t focus without proper food in your system, Ash.”

“Sure, I can.”

“No, you can’t,” Michael says. “You need to take a shower and you need to eat something that isn’t ninety percent salt and conservatives.”

“Afterwards,” Ashton says. “When I’ve finished-”

“No, now,” Michael says. Not waiting for Ashton to respond, he takes a step forward and grabs the book from Ashton’s desk, slamming it shut before clutching it to his chest. “Go take a shower, I’ll order us something… I don’t know.” He shrugs when Ashton quirks a tired eyebrow at him. “Not that it’s healthy, but how about pizza?”

Ashton shakes his head. “Gimme my book back, Mike,” he says as he rises to his feet. “I have too much to do, I can’t afford to take a night off.”

Clutching the gigantic book to his chest, Michael takes a step backwards, away from Ashton. “Yes, you can, and you have to,” he says.

“ _No_ , Mike, I have-”

“We’ve been friends for almost ten years, Ash,” Michael interrupts. He waits for Ashton to fall back before he continues. “Almost ten years, yeah? First kisses, first heartbreaks, first… everything, we were there for each other when it all went to shit, yeah? And now we’ve been living together for two years and you’re about to have your first breakdown, so… please, let me be there for you. You need it, and I wanna help.”

Ashton’s face contracts into a grimace. “Michael…”

“Pizza and some YouTube-videos, yeah?” Michael says. “Go take a shower and put on some clean clothes, I’ll order a pizza with extra mushroom and onions and we’ll just eat and be lazy until it’s bedtime.”

It’s equally surprising and exhilarating when Ashton eventually nods and goes to the bathroom. Letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in, Michael puts Ashton’s gigantic textbook down on the desk before he heads to the living room to call their favourite pizza place to place an order.

Ashton emerges from the bedroom a few minutes later, his hair damp and curly as he sits down on the couch next to Michael and curls up with a throw pillow clutched to his chest.

“I don’t have time for this,” he says, eyes flickering to meet Michael’s. “I appreciate it, but I have so much to do and I have to… well, do it.”

“You also need to unwind,” Michael says. “You can’t function without proper sleep and food, and I don’t think you’ve had either in way too long.”

“I’m fine,” Ashton snaps. He’s folded his arms tightly over his chest, eyebrows drawn tightly together as he focuses on whatever is going on on the TV.

Michael rolls his eyes. “You’re not fine,” he says as he scoots closer to Ashton, pressing their temples together. “You’re exhausted, you’re gonna become sick if you keep this up.”

“You know you’re not my mother, right?” Ashton asks, and though his tone of voice is impatient, his whole body slumps against Michael’s in a silent request for touches and comfort that Michael is more than happy to fulfill. He manages to snake one arm around Ashton’s waist to pull him closer, and Ashton sighs soundly as he slips further down until his head is resting on Michael’s shoulder.

“You’re tired,” Michael murmurs as he nuzzles into Ashton’s curls. “Try to relax, okay? Just for tonight, and I’ll let you go back to being self-destructive in the morning.”

“‘M not self-destructive,” Ashton argues weakly. “Just have a lot to do. Have to get through it.”

“But not today,” Michael says.

Ashton doesn’t answer, and that’s good enough for Michael. The pizza arrives a short while later, and they eat it while watching _Diablo III_ -streams on YouTube, neither of them saying a word. As soon as they’ve finished, Ashton returns to his previous position, head rested on Michael’s shoulder. And Michael knows Ashton so well, knows his _body language_ so well, that when Ashton curls in on himself and fists Michael’s jumper with one hand, it means he’s feeling complacent and secure.

“Sorry I’m being so impossible,” Ashton mumbles after a while. “I don’t mean to be, I just… I’m stressed out and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Lucky you’ve got me to help you, then, yeah?” Michael says. “Not that I’m entirely sure what I’m doing, but I can try.”

“You always try, and you always succeed,” Ashton says with a soft, sleepy chuckle. “I appreciate it, just so you know. I don’t tell you that often enough. Or ever. You take care of me and I really appreciate it.” Pausing for a second, he adds, “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Ash,” Michael says, smiling as he plants a quick kiss to Ashton’s forehead. “And you’re welcome.”

“Hm. Got any plans for the weekend? Going out with… I don’t remember his name, but the bulky guy with the long hair?”

“Simon,” Michael says. “And no, I called him yesterday and said we probably shouldn’t be seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh,” Ashton says. “How come?”

“No reason, I just didn’t see it going anywhere,” Michael says with a shrug.

“Fair enough.” Ashton shifts a little, nudging his head in under Michael’s chin. “I broke it off with Mia last week.”

Michael frowns. “Why? I thought you liked her.”

“I did, I do, but… same as you, I didn’t see it going anywhere. Didn’t wanna waste my time when I already have fifty thousand things to focus on, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Michael says. “I’m sorry, though. How did she take it?”

“She was upset, but she understood,” Ashton says. Sitting up straight, he blinks at Michael with heavy eyelids, and in the deep orange glow from the ceiling lamp, the dark rings under his eyes are more obvious than ever.

“You look awful,” Michael snorts as he drags a thumb along Ashton’s jawline. “And you need a shave.”

“Tomorrow, can’t be bothered right now,” Ashton says before he, as if on cue, yawns languidly. Dragging a hand through his hair, he blinks at Michael. “Thanks again for this. I should… go to bed.”

“Don’t you dare pick up a book,” Michael says.

“I won’t,” Ashton says. Their eyes meet, and Michael’s heart skips a beat; Ashton looks so soft like this, so pliant and welcoming in his completely and utterly exhausted state. He looks like home, like lazy mornings and late nights, like hugs and softly spoken words, like Christmas mornings and quiet declarations of love. And that’s what he is to Michael, is the thing; he’s experienced lazy mornings and late nights with Ashton; has hugged him and spoken softly to him in times of emotional and mental exhaustion; has spent Christmas morning with him and expressed his love for him.

Ashton’s kneeling next to Michael, and as they stare into each other's eyes, he lifts a hand to gently cup Michael’s jaw. It occurs, rather stupidly, to Michael that Ashton’s not the only one in the room who needs a shave.

“Thank you,” Ashton whispers as he leans in closer to Michael’s face. “For always taking care of me, for knowing me well enough to know what I need better than anyone else.” And then his lips are on Michael’s, soft and dry and unmoving. It’s over after a few seconds, and Ashton’s smiling when he pulls back.

Covering Ashton’s hand on his jaw with his own, Michael asks, “What was that for?”

“I wanted to,” Ashton says. “Was it okay?”

Michael nods. “Yeah, it was… okay.”

“Is it okay if I do it again tomorrow?” Ashton asks softly. “And next week, next month? Next year?”

Michael’s chest tightens with raw emotion at that, and he bites his lip on a smile. “I think that’d be okay, yeah,” he says. The words are barely out of his mouth before Ashton yawns again. “But for now, you need to go to bed. We can talk tomorrow, yeah?”

“Tomorrow sounds good,” Ashton says. He blinks sleepily and gives Michael’s cheek a quick kiss before he stands up. “I have a lecture at ten, wanna get breakfast together before that?”

“Sounds good. Meet out here at eight thirty and go to Starbucks?”

Ashton hums in agreement, but doesn’t say anything more before he drags his feet across the living room floor on his way to his bedroom. He’s opened the door and taken a step inside before he turns his head ninety degrees and says, “Night, Mikey. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Ash,” Michael says, and then Ashton’s gone, but Michael still feels less alone than he has in a very long time.


End file.
